


Watching You

by somethingclever



Series: Tim IS a caring and nurturing person. [9]
Category: Justified
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 23:03:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11542260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingclever/pseuds/somethingclever
Summary: "I've been watching you, dad. Ain't that cool?I'm your buckaroo, I wanna be like you.And eat all my food and grow as tall as you are.We got cowboy boots and camo pants.Yeah, we're just alike. Hey, ain't we, dad?I wanna do everything you do.So I've been watching you." - Rodney Atkins





	Watching You

Art was six years old the first time his daddy let him fire a rifle.  He'd been begging since he was four, and he’d been going to the firing range since before he could even _walk_ , but daddy would say no, he was too small, and that he'd get hurt.  
  
Then, he asked Raylan, who looked him up and down with consideration (Art tried to look as big as he could) and asked daddy, "What about a 22?"  
  
"...could maybe work. But not at _four_ , Raylan!"  
  
"How old were you?"  
  
"Not four!" Daddy sighed, "Artie, let's see how you handle gun safety, first."  So Artie was very careful with his toy guns and only pointed them at his bad bears, and he sat by daddy when he cleaned and oiled his guns, and rubbed soap on them.  
  
So here he was, his sixth birthday, and daddy had even fixed him a cup of coffee, which he didn't like much but drank anyways, walking along in front of his daddy with his new rifle, Raylan behind him, and he was _so_ ready to shoot the target.  
  
Grandpa Art came, too, and brought Grandma Leslie who took one look at his mug and gave daddy a look. "Timothy," she said, "Is he drinking coffee?"  
  
"I like it," Art said, taking a big swallow, "I wanted it for my birthday."  
  
Daddy shrugged, "He did," he said, "Might wanna keep clear of us on his thirteenth. That's when the moonshine comes out."  
  
Art giggled, carefully settling his rifle to not point at anybody and hugging both his grandparents.  "Ready?" Daddy asked, nodding down the range.

“Should I stand up, or lay down?”

“Well,” Daddy said, “You can do either, but shootin’ prone is going to be more stable for multiple reasons.”

Stable was good, Artie knew that, so he laid himself flat and listened to the instructions, and then put his hearing protection on.  
  
He missed his first shot, but daddy was lying right next to him, and said, "Lower, and to the left. And remember, squeeze like it's toothpaste."  
  
Art grinned, because he really liked squeezing out toothpaste, and he was sure to hit this time.  He kept both eyes open, like daddy did, and breathed like him too. The sights lined up, and this time he knew he was gonna... he squeezed and breathed, and he hit the target- not right in the center like dad, but still, he hit it! He cleared the chamber and picked up his shells, pulling off his headset to hear Raylan whooping, and saw Grandpa Art pass him five dollars.  
  
"Raylan bet you'd hit on your second shot," daddy explained, smiling at him, "Grandpa thought it'd take four.  Wanna shoot some more?"  
  
"Yes," Art said, "I got a whole box. Can we shoot the whole box?"  
  
"I got all day, kiddo. Yeah, you can shoot the whole box."  
  
"And can I hang the target on my wall?"  
  
Dad looked down the range and smiled, "Sure can, bud. Now. Let's go back for more."

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this little slice of life! It was fun to write. Comments, as always, make me happy in my tiny, blackened soul!


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